Chapter 3

Dumbledore, satisfied that his warning was taken seriously, picked up the conversation where it had diverged.

"Harry is in his third year of Hogwarts. And as it so happens, the students have arrived only today." Dumbledore said. Sam nodded and tried to remember the details of the book.

"I can't believe that Cass sent us here completely defenseless." said Dean. "How the hell does he expect us to help a kid in a world where everyone has a magic wand and we have bupkis? He's gonna have to save our asses!"

"Well, back home we have done magic." said Sam.

"Oh, no, no, no." Dean protested. "Magic like that is completely different. Hex bags and goofer dust? Summoning demons and making Devil's Traps are, are. . . just shopping lists and recipes." Dean looked at Sam and Dumbledore who both stared back at him with expectant eyes, as if any second he would recognize the similarity. "What? Its not like we have wands and are shooting down demons."

"Dean, magic ability is not something that is taken for granted. You either poses it, or you do not. In your world is everyone of capable of magic?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well, no. There are Witches there but they are usually evil and we end up having to. . ."

"Dean." Sam said softly. Dean looked his way and saw Sam shaking his head as if to say, please don't finish that sentence.

"Anyway." he shrugged off his previous statement. "There are a lot of people out there who try do magic, mostly teenagers and hippies, but it's not real magic. Then there are those who actually get their hands on the real stuff."

"And are they all evil in the end?" asked Dumbledore.

"No." Sam answered. "There are good witches and bad witches."

"As there are here." Dumbledore beamed gently. "So it stands to reason, that you two may not be Muggles after all."

Sam perked up at the thought. "Really?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Slow your roll, Glinda." he chided his brother.

"Think about it, Dean." Sam protested. "What if we can do magic here? I mean, their kind of magic. We would be able to defend ourselves and actually do what we were sent here to do."

Dean stood up from the bed. "This whole thing is nuts!" he shouted.

"Ssssssshhhhhhh!" Madam Pomfrey scolded from somewhere behind the white curtains.

"Sorry." Sam offered. "Is there a way to test it, Dumbledore?"

"As a matter of fact there are several!" he said almost joyfully. "We can start first thing in the morning. But for now, you two must rest. You will stay here in the Hospital Wing tonight, and tomorrow rooms will be prepared for you."

"Thank you, sir." said Sam.

Dean sat back down and resigned himself to the fact he had no other choice but to accept things as they were. "Yeah, thanks." he said with a sigh.

"Goodnight, gentlemen." said Dumbledore and he stood and pulled the curtains closed behind him, They watched as Dumbledore's shadow and Madam Pomfrey's held a brief conversation before he turned and headed for the door.

Sam and Dean got into their beds, the springs creaking loudly under the weight of their adult bodies. Madam Pomfrey drew back the curtain and entered. She immediately began picking up the brother's wet clothes.

"All settled in?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Sam answered.

"I will have your clothes laundered for you, and I trust you won't be needing anything till the morning?"

"No, thanks we're good." said Dean.

"Then have a good rest, the Headmaster will fetch you in the morning. Now drink up! I'll not have you sick!" she said and turned on her heals and disappeared through the curtains, closing them once more. Her shadow moved toward the back of the room where they heard a door open and close. Then all was silent except for the faint crackling of the torches on the walls.

The brothers downed the rest of their potions, which left them feeling warm and cozy as they lie in their beds. They began trying to wind down their thoughts of what had happened over the last couple hours.

Dean was angry but beyond exhausted. He couldn't believe he was stuck in yet another situation where there were too many unknown variables. Could they get home? How long would they be stuck here? He decided to worry about it later as the potion began to take effect and he turned over on his side, and passed out.

Sam on the other hand lay there like a kid on Christmas Eve. His mind raced, wondering what tomorrow would hold. Would they be Muggles? Would they be Wizards? Would they be stuck here, or would they find a way home? Question after question came until they all blended together into a sleepy drone of magical lull, and soon his eyelids slammed shut and he was out cold.

Morning came all too soon. Sam awoke to Madam Pomfrey lightly jiggling his arm.

"Wake up, lazy bones!" she said.

Sam opened his eyes and her face came into focus. "Oh! Sorry." Memories of the night before came rushing back. So it wasn't a dream after all, he thought. Dean was already awake, dressed in his own laundered clothes, and tying his shoes.

"Wake up, Glinda. Big day!" he said sarcastically.

"The Headmaster should be here any minute." Madam Pomfrey informed them and scuttled off to tend to a student with legs that wobbled uncontrollably.

Sam grabbed his clothes and changed. A few minutes passed and Dumbledore arrived at the Hospital Wing. He stood in the door and waved them over. They put on their jackets and walked over to him.

"Good morning." he greeted them.

"Good morning." They repeated.

"If you would be so kind as to follow me to the Great Hall, breakfast is served."

"Oh, good." Dean said. "It's about time we got some grub."

They followed Dumbledore down the corridors, blessedly Peeves-free. They continued down the staircase with moving sections and the seemingly living portraits. The aroma of food wafted through the air and grew stronger and stronger till they reached the Great Hall.

The three men entered through the huge double doors. Sam's eyes grew wide with excitement at seeing the four long tables of the Hogwarts Houses lined on either side with chattering students. The head table stood length-wise along the back wall that sat all of the Professors. Dean's eyes grew wide as he saw all the food that literally covered the tables from end to end. Sausages, and pastries, and meat pies, and whatever the heck that stuff is. Sam saw his brother start to salivate hungrily and nudged him with his elbow.

"What?" he said. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry." Sam jested.

"Dude! It's a free buffet! When was the last time we ate?"

"Eh. Good point."

Dumbledore turned to them, "Gentlemen, you will be sitting at the head table with the rest of the adults."

"Uh, Dumbledore?" Sam asked.

"Yes?"

"What will you be telling the students about us?"

"Don't worry Sam," he said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I have a plan. Please follow me."

As they walked to the head table, several students looked up from their meals and began to whisper as they trailed them with their eyes, followed shortly with even more heads turning their way.

Dumbledore whispered to Sam and Dean as they walked. "I have already held a meeting with the rest of the staff. I have told them only what they needed to know about your presence here."

They reached the head table and took their seats on the end. All of the adults were looking down the table at them. Some the brothers recognized from the night before, others that were unfamiliar including a giant bearded man. Severus sneered, Minerva smiled ever-so-slightly, and the shrieking woman named Sybill sat next to them staring out of her thick round glasses at them. Dean immediately started to fill his plate with food and poured himself a drink. Sam followed en suit but with far less gusto.

Dumbledore took the middle seat but instead of sitting he raised his hands for silence as he quieted the room. "If I may have your attention please?" he spoke loudly enough to be heard over the din.

The room suddenly went quiet and all eyes were on him.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, in addition to last night's announcements regarding Dementors guarding the school grounds, by now I'm sure you are all well aware that we had guests arrive late last night. We had expected the arrival, just not the method of arrival. With the increased security, these two gentlemen had to take alternate means. They arrived by portkey, and did not, in fact, Apparate onto the grounds. An owl simply got lost on the way here with the news of the Portkey and their late arrival. But, they have arrived! Eagerly awaited, I would like to introduce to you Professors Sam and Dean Winchester."

As the room began their welcoming applause, Dean, who had been sipping his pumpkin juice, snorted into his glass at the word 'Professors'.

Dumbledore turned toward the pair in reference and Sam nudged his brother to stand up. Dean did so.

"Is he freaking nuts?" Dean asked under his breath. "What the hell are we supposed to teach?"

"Calm down. Don't make a scene, just smile and wave." said Sam. They both did so and sat back down.

"Their classes will be announced at a later time, but for now, please enjoy your breakfast, and your last day before classes." As he sat down the chatter resumed.

Dean wasn't happy, but he stuffed his stomach full of delicious foods which partially improved his mood.

Sam looked out over the roomful of students. He located the Gryffindor table and scanned the students sitting along both sides. He elbowed Dean who was shoving pancakes into his mouth.

"Mmph! Wuff uh hhhmm ih rawr wif oo!" he protested with his mouth full.

"Look!" Sam pointed with his fork. "There he is. That's Harry."

Dean looked and saw the dark haired mop top between a pretty young blonde and a flaming red head who was also shoveling food into his mouth. They were huddled over a newspaper and reading it to each other.

"Okay." Dean said after swallowing. "What do we do?

"Well, we can't do anything right now. We will have to follow Dumbledore's lead, he is the one calling the shots."

"Then can I eat?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

At the end of breakfast, the Great Hall was mostly empty save for a few stragglers. Dumbledore returned to the brothers and bid them follow him to the staffroom just off to the side of the head table.

It was richly decorated with heavy antique furniture, tapestries and a warm fireplace. Even a few of those inhabited portraits hung on the walls. In the room waiting for them were several of the Professors.

"May I formally introduce Sam and Dean Winchester to you all." Dumbledore said cheerfully.

They were met with nods, some approving some disapproving. Some smiled, some . . . not so much.

All the professors from the night before were present, and a few others they'd not yet met. Hooch, Sinistra, and Vector they introduced themselves shortly.

"Each of our Professors here have agreed to provide tests for you as you requested. There are several subjects we can test you in among them. As you are not accustomed to our kind of magic, it may be difficult to find something that may manifest your abilities without proper wands." said Dumbledore. "Argus has found a couple of wands in the lost and found that you may try. As they are not your wands they may work, they may not. Then again, it may come perfectly natural to you. We shall find out soon, but first, I would like you to try performing magic that you are accustom to. "

"Uuuuuuh." the brothers hesitated.

"Anything that you think may work. Is there anything that you may require?

"Sir," Sam tried to explain. "What we do in our line of work is dangerous stuff. It usually requires us to perform exorcisms, trapping demons, or summon things that we really shouldn't be summoning, especially around the students."

"Ah. Well, I thank you for erring on the side of caution. But there must be something you can try."

"Well, I mean we could make something, but then we'd have to go out and find a monster to see if it works. We use a lot of sigils and protection spells and hex bags to hide us from things. But there is no telling if those things even exist here. Well, I'm sure some do, but not in the same form." Sam shrugged dejectedly.

"Come on, Sam. Stop wasting their time and ours. This is stupid." Dean said gruffly.

"Young man," said Dumbledore, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Please do not give up so easily, we've only begun. I would like to try something with our flying instructor, Rolanda Hooch."

A grey haired woman with yellow cat eyes stepped forward and handed the brothers a broom each. "Now!" she began right away. "Place your brooms on the ground."

They looked at her confused. "Spit spot!" she insisted and they did as they were told. "Now as with all my new students, I will instruct you on the basics. Stand on the left side of your broom." They moved into position. "Raise your right hand above the broom and command it by saying, 'Up'."

Dean looked at Sam as if to say, 'are we really doing this?'

"Just do it, Dean." Sam said. He looked down at his broom. "Up!" Nothing happened.

"Try again." said Rolanda. "You have to force your will upon the broom and command it."

"Sam, this is –"

"Shut up, Dean! Up!" he said again. Nothing happened.

"Concentrate!" she coached.

Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Damn broom! he thought. You will listen to me!

"UP!" he shouted and to everyone's surprise it shot up off the ground and he caught it. There was a gasp from the group and a light applause from a few of them.

"Well!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "It seems we have a new wizard in our midst."

Sam wore his excitement and surprise on his face. "I'm a wizard Dean!"

"Oh, geeze!" Dean rolled his eyes.

Suddenly all eyes were on Dean and Dumbledore again placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Magic ability runs in the family. If Sam is a wizard, then there is a very good chance that you are as well. Please?" he said and motioned toward the broom on the floor. "Try."

Dean stepped up to his broom, held his left hand over it and cleared his throat. "Up." he said. Nothing happened.

"Again!" Rolanda urged.

He cleared his throat again. "Up!" The broom lay there unmoving.

"Concentrate. Command it." The cat-eyed woman insisted.

Dean stared at the broom intently, and everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath. "UP!" he said with as much authority as he could muster. Nothing happened.

"Look, this isn't going to work." Dean said finally. "Maybe I'm just not a wizard."

"Headmaster, if I may?" said a familiar slow and deliberate voice. The brothers turned to see Severus had stepped forward from the group of Professors.

Oh, this guy, thought Dean.

"He is imprudent and headstrong. If he does have magical abilities, perhaps they lie deeper?"

"What do you suggest, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

"We could try Occlumency." Severus offered.

"Indeed we could." said Dumbledore.

"Occu-what now?" Dean asked, nearing the end of his rope.

"Occlumency, Mister Winchester, is the magical defense of the mind against external penetration."

"You want to penetrate me?" Dean said incredulously.

"Dean." Sam stepped in. "He means to be able to block your thoughts from being read. You know. Like a Jedi."

"Jedi?" Dean perked up.

"Just think of it like that. Use the Force to stop him from reading your mind."

"You want me to use the Force?"

"If it helps you focus." Sam said. "Same principle."

"Fine, Sam. You want to be a wizard, I'll be a freaking Jedi." Dean sniffed. "Okay fine. How do we do this?"